I was going through old posts I’d written, attempting to find a few I can submit for my dream job, when I came across the one about the DAMAS conference. I presented a session for young girls about confidence and positive self-image, two things that took me years to find. This rabbit-holed me into the speech I’d written just for them. One I could barely get through at the time,.
Thanks to a dark thunderstorm and its co-conspirator 50% custody, I got out of bed slightly later than usual this morning. Sliding the doggy co-sleeper out of the way with my foot, I made my way to the bathroom to wash the sleep away. About halfway into my shower, once I’d woken up, I glanced down and noticed a tiny gnat on the floor. I watched it for a moment, as it scrambled to avoid the pouring water.
In my former life, I was a mommy-blogger. At present, I’m more of a mommy-birder. (The first step is admitting it, but I’m already on step 5: I own that shit.) It began with my sweet cardinal, Bernadette the Brave and, a year and a half later, I pretty much have penguins in my backyard, begging for a bite. If we cross paths, you’ll likely find me with my camera.
It’s taken me ten minutes to start writing this post. Not because I don’t have any words. Because, of those, I’ve got plenty. But, because I’ve been trying to figure out how to type the backward R in Toys “R” Us. This, until I realized that Toys “R” Us doesn’t even type their own R backwards. So, feeling much less pressured, we can begin. Ahem. For those of you who.
My initial reaction upon hearing the (most recent) Arizona hate-bill was disbelief, which quickly turned into blind, foaming at the mouth rage, that had me shaking from the inside out. Due to a genetic inability to control the words that come out of my mouth, I did what I do best: yelled “ASSHOLE!” and screamed “BIGOT!” I mean, like I have the time to write another Kirk Cameron is an asshole type.